Gaatlok
by MoonSugarAddict
Summary: Everyone assumed Gaatlok was a type of explosive. But what if they were wrong? What if, instead of an explosive, Gaatlok was an explosives expert? If continued, it'll be Bethany/F!OC and M!Hawke/Isabela. T for future chapters.


The Arishok sat slouched forwards, watching the small dwarf leave the compound. He stared forward, blankly. This dwarf had come bearing knowledge he shouldn't possess. It was obvious he hardly knew anything, seeing as he said Gaatlok was a black powder, but how did he know of Gaatlok in the first place?

His eyes drifted to a passing Karasaad. Upon making eye contact, the soldier quickly made his way in front of the Arishok.

"Shanedan," Karasaad greeted, nodding once.

The Arishok sat up straighter. "Fetch Gaatlok," He commanded. Karasaad set off straight away, knowing exactly where to go.

* * *

Karasaad barged through the door to the workshop, not even bothering to knock. He sneered at the mess surrounding him.

Papers covered the desks and floors. The bookshelves were filled to them brim with ragged leather bound books and journals. There were also shelves stocked with ingredients. In the centre of the room was a large alchemy station, covered in different coloured bottles and vials, some full and some empty.

In the middle of the large alchemy station was a young female elf. She was sat cross-legged on a table, a journal on her lap and a quill plus ink-pot next to her. Her eyes were closed.

"This does not look like work, Gaatlok." Karasaad commented, walking towards the girl. The blonde elf opened one grey eye in acknowledgement. She smirked at the soldier.

"I made a mistake in my calculations." Gaatlok informed him wryly. "My latest 'experiment' proved to be more gas than explosion." She opened both her eyes. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Karasaad?"

At once Karasaad straightened. "The Arishok wishes to speak with you. You must go to him immediately."

Gaatlok hummed. "Wasn't that a bit contradictory?" At Karasaad's questioning look, she sighed. "By saying 'wishes', you'd think I have a choice. But because you said 'must and 'immediately' straight after, I know I haven't. Contradictory, you see?" She shrugged.

"Watch your tongue Gaatlok," Karasaad warned. "It will get you into trouble."

"Your concern is appreciated-"

"It wasn't concern."

"Oh," Gaatlok blinked. "Well then, your threat is appreciated." She shrugged again, before uncrossing her legs and pushing herself off the table.

"So," She raised an eyebrow. "Arishok."

* * *

The Arishok looked up as the duo approached. He nodded at Karasaad, silently dismissing him. Karasaad stomped once, before making his way to his previous destination. After making sure he had left, the Arishok turned to Gaatlok.

"Shanedan," Gaatlok hailed, kneeling quickly. "You wanted to see me?"

They stared at each other for a few moments. Finally the Arishok opened his mouth.

"I would like to know, Gaatlok, how a _dwarf _knew you were here." He stated, leaning backwards.

Gaatlok rose, confused. "What do you mean, Arishok?" She questioned, stepping closer.

"A dwarf came here to bargain for Gaatlok." Arishok informed the young elf. "A black powder."

"Uh huh," Gaatlok nodded, biting her lip. "I assume you corrected him?" She asked, eyebrow raised. They stared at each other again.

"No."

"Because, as you know, I don't own any explosives in the form of black powder which is... odd." She trailed off, looking at the sky. "I wonder how I could make some that look like that." She thought aloud, "Maybe if I used some-"

"Venak hol," The Arishok interrupted, making Gaatlok's attention return to him. She smiled sheepishly. "I want to know where he learnt the word."

"Well," She said slowly, "It would be a guess," With the Arishok's permission, she carried on.

"I imagine someone in this land already knew the word, and needed some extra gold," Gaatlok shrugged, "I hear information isn't cheap in lands like this."

Arishok scoffed. "Foolish Basra, wallowing in their own selfishness and chaos." He jeered,Gaatlok wisely said nothing. "I told the dwarf nothing. I wish to see how this plays out." He revealed.

"I suspect we are done,"

Gaatlok remembered something important then. "While I still have an audience Arishok, may I make a request?"

The Arishok turned to her. "Is this for you or for the Qun?

"Both and one," Gaatlok replied knowingly.

The Arishok nodded. "Speak,"

"I wish for permission to leave the compound." Gaatlok said quickly. He stared at her.

"Why?"

"We need supplies," She informed her superior. Everything seemed to go silent as the Arishok peered at her.

"I will consider it," He said finally. Gaatlok sighed. Consideration was enough.

"Panahedan, Gaatlok." The Arishok dismissed, walking away.

Gaatlok nodded to his retreating form before making her way back to her workspace. She pressed her lips together, trying to contain her excitement. She hadn't had a chance to explore Kirkwall yet, never having the right excuse.

Gaatlok stopped as a group of Karasten approached. She looked down respectively and waited for them to pass. When they had gone, she carried on, trying to ignore the slight pain in her chest.

* * *

Sighing, Gaatlok shut the door. She made her way over to the journal and skimmed the page, clicking her tongue as she read. Rolling her eyes, she lifted the quill and dipped it in the ink-pot.

"Three ounces," She scribbled. Setting the quill down, she walked over to her ingredient shelves. "Right, now where are-" She trailed off, going on her tiptoes to look at the top shelf. "Aha," She grinned, grasping a jar filled with a green dust. She gently pulled it off the shelf and went back to the alchemy table.

_The mixture needs to be boiling before I can add anything. _She recited dutifully in her head. It was one of the first things she learnt, back before she was even with the Qunari. After double checking that the door was shut, she placed her index finger underneath the bowl. Seconds later, a flame erupted from her finger. It only took a few seconds for the mixture to be bubbling. Satisfied, she removed her finger and opened the jar. An unpleasant aroma filled the room, making her eyes water.

She measured three ounces and poured it into the still bubbling mixture. It began hissing.

"Oh," Gaatlok blinked, carefully bottling the mixture. "I hope it was supposed to do that." She quickly put a cork in the bottle, relieved when it settled. She jogged over to the door, opened it, and went outside. When she was a safe distance away, she put the bottle down. _Just to be safe_.

It had gone dark, leaving a cold chill. _Kirkwall's so odd with weather. _She thought as she made her way back. _It's so hot during the day, but at night it's freezing. _She wrapped her arms around herself and sped up. As soon as she made it back, she slammed the door. She left her main workspace and walked into her bedroom, which was a just a back room with a bed. It was small, cramped, and if there was a fire she was doomed.

As she changed into a night shirt, her mind wondered to the Saarebas. _If they found out I could do magic, that would happen to me._ She reminded herself grimly. _You can't tell anyone. _Just thinking about living their life, having to wear large chains and having her mouth stitched together, made her shake. _It's not against the Qun. It's not selfish. If I was a Saarebas, no one here would know how to make any form of gaatlok. _She justified.

_I'm not selfish. I'm not selfish. I'm not selfish._

* * *

**Shanedan - "I'll hear you." A respectful greeting. **

**Karasaad – Soldier rank.**

**Gaatlok- Explosives**

**Venak hol- Wearying one.**

**Panahedan – Goodbye. Take refuge in safety**

**Karasten – A group of Qunari mages and their handlers.**


End file.
